92
Croaker did not say much as we walked, though he did snarl at people who dared stare at the Shadar and his white-devil companion. We northerners are so few that even after years few of the commoners have yet seen any of us. And, of course, we have done very little to dispel our evil reputation.
Some intellectuals inside the priesthoods have argued that the friendship of today’s Black Company is as deadly to Taglios as was the enmity of its remote forbears.
Their complaint may have merit.
We were coming up to the Palace. Croaker kept grumbling to himself, mostly because so little had come of the expedition. That had been his pet and his expectations had run away with him. He asked, “How long are your in-laws going to hang around?”
I was not going to make him happy. “For the duration. They want their slice of Narayan Singh.” The Old Man still distrusted Uncle Doj.
“They know about Smoke?”
“Of course not! Damnit . . . !”
“Keep it that way. You find his library again yet?”
I had mentioned having stumbled onto that. “Not yet.” Fact was, I had made no more than a token effort. I had too much else on my mind.
“Try a little harder.” He knew. “Don’t spend so much time with Smoke. And I think it might be useful to look at those old Annals before we head south.”
“How come you never looked for the library yourself? You’ve had years.”
“I heard it got destroyed the night that Smoke got mauled. Now it looks like that must have happened in some other room. The Radisha wouldn’t mislead me about something like that. Would she? Nah.”
We paused while a Vehdna cavalry regiment passed in review outside the Palace. It had come from upcountry somewhere and was just paying its respects before taking the field. The robes and turbans of the troopers were clean and gaudy. Their lances were all brightly pennoned. Their spearheads gleamed. Their mounts were beautiful, admirably trained and perfectly groomed.
“Too bad pretty don’t win wars,” I said. The Black Company is not pretty.
Croaker grunted. I glanced at him. And surprised what might have been a teardrop in the corner of his eye.
He knew what awaited all those brave young men.
We crossed behind the horsemen, stepping carefully.
One-Eye met us in the hall way outside Croaker’s apartment. “What’s the word?”
Croaker shook his head. “No magic answers.”
“We always get to do it the hard way.”
I told him, “I’m supposed to look for that library room I found the other night. You got something to help keep me from getting confused?”
He looked at me like that might be a tall order. “I already gave you something.” He indicated the yarn on my wrist.
“That was for your spells. There’s probably still a bunch of Smoke’s left over, too.”
The runt thought about that. “Could be. Give me that.” His gaze fell on my amulet as I removed the yarn. “Jade?” He held my wrist momentarily.
“I think so. It belonged to Sarie’s grandmother, Hong Tray. You never met her. She was the old Speaker’s wife.”
“You been wearing this all these years and I never noticed?”
“I never wore it till Sarie . . . Until the other night. Sarie wore it sometimes, though, when she wanted to dress up.”
“Ah, yes. I recall.” He frowned like he was trying to remember something, then shrugged, went off into a shadow and muttered to the yarn for a while. When he returned he said, “That ought to get you through anybody’s confusion spells. Except maybe your own.”
“What?”
“You had any of your attacks lately?”
“No. Not that I remember.” I offered the amendment because I had had them before without being aware of them. Apparently.
“You had any new ideas about what caused them? Or who you kept running into when you went back to Dejagore?”
“I was escaping from the pain of losing Sarie.”
One-Eye laid one of his more intense stares upon me, just the way he had whenever he helped fish me out of the past. Evidently he was not convinced.
I asked, “Is it suddenly important again?”
“It never stopped being important, Murgen. There just hasn’t been time to pursue it.”
Nor was there now.
He said, “We just have to let you take charge of yourself, to watch out and do the right thing in a crunch.”
One-Eye being totally serious? That was spooky.
Croaker had lost interest. He was back at his charts and figures. But he did reiterate, “I want to see those books before we hit the road.”
I can take a hint, sometimes. “I’m on my way, Boss.”